


The Curious Case of Old Mr. Fell

by MovesLikeBucky



Category: Good Omens (TV), The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Kinda?, POV Outsider, the game is afoot!, why do I keep writing from the perspective of small animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MovesLikeBucky/pseuds/MovesLikeBucky
Summary: Over the course of the years, my adventures with Basil would take me to some very strange places.  But none quite stay in my mind like the bookseller.  What we saw in that shop that day would continue to defy explanation...
Comments: 27
Kudos: 94
Collections: MoFu Birthdays





	The Curious Case of Old Mr. Fell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [benzedrine_calmstheitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/benzedrine_calmstheitch/gifts).



> STU IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY AND YOU ARE ALSO MY FAVORITE STU THAT I KNOW
> 
> SO I WROTE THE CROSSOVER NOBODY ASKED FOR
> 
> GOOD OMENS AND THE GREAT MOUSE DETECTIVE
> 
> ILU HAPPY BIRTHDAY YA NERD <3 <3

**From the memoirs of Dr. David Q Dawson:**

_Over the course of the years, my adventures with Basil would take me to some very strange places. But none quite stay in my mind like the bookseller. What we saw in that shop that day would continue to defy explanation..._

_..._

“- and so, by finding the book the scrap is from, we find what the thieves were after, and we save the day! It’s elementary, my dear Dawson!” Basil blabbers on as they skitter down the streets of Soho, water still pooled in places from the rain, the fog diffusing the lamplights near the road.

“Is it _really_ though, Basil? How do you know it’s here?” Dawson says, trying to keep up. When Basil gets going, it is very difficult to stop him.

“The scrap of parchment left behind had traces of many different forms of ink on a vellum paper. Iron gall, cochineal, lapis lazuli, and even verdigris. These were used in medieval manuscripts dating back to the middle ages. Whilst many institutes in London have manuscripts featuring the brilliant lapis lazuli, there is only one place where they are unsecured and that is here!” Basil stretches his arms out wide to gesture at the giant sign far above them: A.Z. Fell and Co., Antiquarian and Unusual Booksellers.

“Well it certainly is pretentious.”

“Yes... but I’m sure we’re close to cracking the case!”

They scamper through a split in the moulding and up through a crack in the floorboards. The floor is dusty and smells vaguely of mildew.

“Do people actually shop here? It smells atrocious.”

“It _is_ quite odd, isn’t it, Dawson? These are not good conditions for books, I can’t imagine a bookseller would purposely do this…” Basil muses as they scamper between the shelves. 

Dawson looks at the shelves, the volumes are all old, nothing modern among them. There’s a few places where scrolls that look older than _London_ poke out from the shelves. It’s astounding, but they’re here for a purpose.

They round a corner and come face to foot with a pair of brown boots. They screech to a stop and look up to a kind face with fluffy white curls and an even fluffier hat.

“Ah, hello there, aren’t you peculiar?” The man says, tilting his head. “I’ve never seen mice with clothing, but I suppose anything is possible in these strange modern times.”

Basil and Dawson both freeze. Humans don’t speak to them, don’t notice them. “Don’t make any sudden movements,” Basil whispers out of the side of his mouth, “Maybe he’ll just go away.”

“Well you both obviously have somewhere quite important to be, so, welcome to A.Z. Fell’s Antiquarian and Unusual Books. I’m the name on the sign, A.Z. Fell, is there anything I can help you gentlemen with?”

“He wants to help, Basil,” Dawson whispers, quiet as a - well - quiet as _him_ , if we’re being honest here. 

“Humans don’t _help_ , Dawson.”

“But he might know what the parchment is-”

“Shhhhh!” Basil shushes him and starts to slowly back away.

“Oh, don’t be shy. I can tell you have a problem, and I can tell I have the solution. Now then, won’t you show me what you’ve brought to my shop?”

Something about Mr. Fell’s presence is calming, and not in a normal way. Like a wave or something, and ambience. Makes Dawson trust him. Dawson tugs at Basil’s sleeve.

“Just show him.”

Basil heaves a heavy sigh, “Yes, fine, alright, Dawson, but you’ll see - humans don’t help.” He cautiously approaches Mr. Fell and takes out the scrap of vellum.

“Good heavens, this is…” the man trails off, holding the scrap up to the light and examining it closely, “...here, come with me.” Mr. Fell extends a hand, which Dawson promptly climbs onto. There’s something about him that is to be trusted, though he can’t quite parse what that is. Basil follows reluctantly and they are carried through the shop, to a big book on a wooden lectern.

Mr. Fell sets them down on the edge of the lectern as he begins flipping through the book, coming to a page with a chunk missing. He lines up the edges, matching pattern for pattern. The tiny scrap is part of a much larger picture, depicting the two humans and a tree. Around the tree, a black snake is coiled and watches, with rapt attention, as the woman in the picture bites into an apple.

“Where on Earth did you find this?”

“The fellow we’re chasing dropped it, and we’re trying to get a lead on it, have you seen him?” Dawson asks, prompting a laugh from Basil.

“Dawson that’s a _human_ , couldn’t understand us if he-”

“Ah if you mean that field mouse that I found _munching-”_ Mr. Fell shudders at the thought “-on all of my hard work, he was indeed here. I chased him out of the shop and he scampered off towards the North end of town.”

Basil sits with his mouth hanging open, Dawson just smiles. It’s nice to be right, occasionally, when the great Basil of Baker Street is in error.

“Now then, let me just…” Mr. Fell hovers his hand over the place where the torn parchment lines up and snaps his fingers. A bright light emits from between his palm and the page. Dawson and Basil are shocked to see, when his hand moves, the page is back together as if never torn in the first place. “Much better. Did this one myself you know, back in the 12th century,” he leans in close to them, voice a whisper, “but that will be our secret, ok?” He says with a wink.

...

 _...I don’t remember leaving that bookshop on that day, nor did Basil when I asked about it. We never actually spoke of it again. Whatever old Mr. Fell was or_ is _, is not for us to know. But we went on to solve the case, found Fletcher the Field Mouse, got the emerald ring back for the young lady, and went on to have many more adventures together._


End file.
